Echoes of Deceit

In the glow of screens where shadows dance and lie, we chase the

ghosts of facts that slip away like smoke. They feed us feasts of fiction

served on silver trays, while the banquet hall crumbles and the

emperor's clothes choke. Once we gathered 'round the fire, truths etched in stone

and flame. Now algorithms whisper sweet deceits into the night.

The crowd applauds the puppet show, blind to the strings above. Forgetting that the

stage is built on bones of what was right.